


Deep And Wide The Divide

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last person Ellen expected to walk through the Roadhouse door at midnight on a slow Tuesday night was John Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep And Wide The Divide

Last person Ellen expected to walk through the Roadhouse door at midnight on a slow Tuesday night was John Winchester.

She was cleaning up the empty bar when she heard the door bang open and watched John stagger in. Ellen hadn’t seen his face since… well, in a while. At first glance he appeared drunk then she realized he was bleeding profusely through fingers spread along his left side.

“Goddamn it, John, what happened to you?” Anger and pity wrestled inside her with compassion winning out as she propped up the tall hunter before he passed out over one of the tables.

An hour later, John was patched up and resting in one of Ellen’s back room. Morphine eased his pain and evened out his breathing.

She tucked a blanket around him and spoke under her breath. “What were you thinking, John? Trying to take a pair of vetalas by yourself, you old fool.”

His eyes opened slightly. His gaze was softened by the drugs, and his lashes were damp against his cheek. “He’s gone, Ellen.”

"Who’s gone?”

"Sam. He left us for Stanford.”

Ellen wanted to cheer for the boy, finally getting out of the hunter’s life, but knew that news only had bad repercussions. “What about Dean?” Those boys were inseparable as children, the chubby-cheeked toddler following his big brother everywhere.

"He’s off in South Dakota on another case.” He grabbed Ellen’s hand, something that never would have happened if he wasn’t doped up. His wet eyes were threatening to spill over, which scared her worse than a nest of vamps. “Dean’ll never forgive me for letting his brother leave.”

"Oh, John.” 

He rolled away from her and her pity, pulling the blanket over his shoulder as he faced the wall, finally pulled under by the morphine into sleep.

When Ellen stopped by the room in the morning, the bed was empty and the blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed.


End file.
